“‘Who in the world am I?’ Now that’s the great puzzle!”
-Lewis Carroll, Alice in Wonderland
Answering this question with a reflection not only on who I am, but also who the society of today strives to be, will be a fitting self-introduction to the world within my first blog post.What is my purpose on this Earth? Do I really belong here? What are we doing here? “‘Who in the world am I?’ Now that’s the great puzzle!”-Lewis Carroll, Alice in Wonderland. Throughout our lives, especially in these ever-shifting and changing times, we often ask ourselves these questions: more often than not, the answers elude us. But do they really? Could we be the ones running away? Could we be almost afraid to answer these questions, and prefer to hide blissfully behind rose-coloured glasses? To really grow as a person, to find out where you are and where you should be going, I challenge you to probe at the canvas of the self-image you’ve painted and ask the question: Who am I?
While writing this blogpost, I’ve mulled over what culture tells us about self: but after I’ve scrutinized the proverbial mirror on the wall and pried it off its hinges, then the big question on the tip of my tongue found its way onto paper: can you stay true to who you are, and yet be in a state of constant change, of growth?
What does staying true to yourself mean? Where does faith to the unique self end and being stuck in old traditions begin? Well, for me, it means knowing your mind well, knowing what your values are and staying with them. Like a clam, the world is irritated by what sticks out from the softness, like a grain of sand. But if the grain persists, if it stays resolute, then it will turn into a pearl.
What is it that defines us? What do you think of when you are asked who you are? Your name may surface, a cross may shimmer as a response or a look in the mirror might tell you enough. Or maybe, like Alice, you too search for yourselves amongst your peers: is she herself anymore, or has she become one of the children she knows? When was the last time you saw others trying to imitate one of their ‘cooler’ friends just to please? Or those masses of people dressed almost identically, that just by throwing one glance their way, you can categorize, file, and punt them into a box, where they’ll stay, collecting dust, forever under a label you gave them in 5 seconds of reflection? These labels weren’t created by you, nor the files and boxes: these were pressed onto you and into your way of thinking by society. But society is not always right: nobody is born to fit these files, and yet we all struggle to conform. So why keep the labels? Wouldn’t discarding them lead to a happier life, rather than having to quash down what makes you you?
We are not defined by our situation, but rather, what we make of it: your character, who you are, hinges on how you react when presented with what you have. You could be blessed with everything you need to be a mover-and-shaker, but if you don’t use what you have, then your chances of fading into averageness are just as great. Vice-versa, if you have little, but are bent on being the best you can be, then nothing can stop you.
Is a person more the mind, or the body? Your first judgement is of their outer appearance. But when you get to know them closely, which is more important to you, the thoughts and dreams, or the face and mannerisms? This paradox is universally documented in literature: in the play Cyrano de Bergerac, Roxanne fell in love with the soul of the disfigured suitor, and not the pretty face of the other. A Midsummer Night’s Dream, ‘Love is painted blind’. Don Quixote, the noble yet mad knight, loved the ugliest woman. Stephenie Meyer’s The Host stars a girl being inhabited by a peaceful alien, and was beloved by two boys, one loving the girl and her soul, and the other loving the alien, no matter what body she lived in. Edward, the vampire of the year, would love a mortal, despite her being the victim of the ravages of time. The body is a shell for the soul, the glistening pearl.
We are losing our grips on who we are: media demands that men should be muscled and women should be smoky-eyed, pouting and skinny, advertisements promise a new- and consequently better- you, as long as you buy their hair-gel. All these clamouring voices try to convince you that you need better clothes, a better body, a better everything, that you are anything but perfect, and while they’re tearing you down, they offer you evanescent happiness in a bottle- with a price tag included of course! Have you ever noticed that modern fairy-tales for girls always link beautiful with ‘happily ever after’? From Taylor Swift’s ‘You Belong With Me’ music video to Anne Hathaway’s transformation in Princess Diaries, the happy ending stipulates becoming beautiful. But what of accepting people, or yourself, as you are?
Growing up, living, is like a tumble down the rabbit hole: you feel as tall as a tower, then like you can melt through the floorboards, you can sometimes scarcely believe you are who you were before you started changing so much, and sometimes everyone seems absolutely mad! “Who am I? Ah, that’s the great puzzle!” Well, my penname is 'the Rose', I take my real first name after a Roman empress, I inherited my father’s silver-blue eyes and my mother’s compassionate yet feisty nature, I’m a through-to-the-bone Montréalaise, openly literati, a closet botanist, Jane Austen fanatic, dark chocolate enthusiast, proud guitar owner and if I’m a white rose, I refuse to be painted red to accede to the whims of an idle queen. I AM.
Signed,
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